Ghost Rider
by Ellen Smithee
Summary: Long believed dead, Stefan shows up in Caroline's life one night. Can she trust her old friend or is he responsible for the mysterious happenings in town? Will become M in later chapters.
1. Prologue

_S__hadows on the road behind  
>Shadows on the road ahead<br>Nothing can stop you now_

"Ghost Rider," Rush 

**Prologue**

Caroline would never forget the smell of burning flesh as she ran through the forest, Stefan's daylight ring and the note she'd found on her pillow clutched in her hand.

_Caroline,_

_I can't do this any more. Give my ring to Damon. He'll understand._

_Stefan_

She had to stop him.

Three years he'd been missing; three years of indiscriminate killing and feeding; three years till Damon and Elijah had tracked them down and defeated Klaus with everyone's help. A lot could happen in three years. A lot did. Some people waited as long as they could and then moved on; some people didn't.

Some people _couldn't_.

She reached the clearing just after sunrise, stopping short at the sight before her. She covered her mouth and nose, her stomach churning in the stench of burning flesh, as she stared at his body, still enveloped in the flames as it writhed in an obscene dance. Retching, she fell to her knees as violent sobs shook her body. After all they'd gone through to get him back, her best friend was dead by his own hand, unable to deal with what had awaited him at home upon his return.

Her eyes swimming with tears, she looked at Stefan's ring and the crumbled piece of paper one last time.

When she told him, Damon understood only too well.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Caroline grabbed her empty coffee thermos on her way out of the control room, waving at the morning disk jockey through the glass before she took off down the hall. With the exception of the security team, they were the only people in the building at this time of night, and the office of the radio station was dark and quiet. She sort of missed the hustle and bustle of a busy workplace, but working at night meant that fewer people saw her in the full light of day, which added another few years she could get away with staying in one place. Maybe she'd never be able to fulfill her dream of being on TV for fear of exposing her secret, but radio was the next best thing. She could travel from town to town and switch jobs with a few tweaks of her resume easily without anyone being the wiser. She was on her second job in 16 years since getting her Master's in broadcast journalism, and she still had a few good years in this town before people would start to suspect.

When she reached the lobby, she called goodnight to the night watchman and exited the building, heading toward the parking lot. Sunrise was still an hour or so away, but the sky was already starting to turn grey on the horizon. But instead of the customary chirping of awakening birds, she was met with silence. A chill ran down Caroline's spine as she realized it was _too_ silent. and her pace quickened as she approached her car. She knew it was silly to be scared-after all, she _was_ one of the creatures of the night-but that knowledge didn't stop the fear from curling in her stomach. She pressed the button on her key chain to unlock the door and then slid behind the wheel, tossing her thermos and purse on the seat next to her and sticking the key in the ignition. She jumped as the radio blared and smacked the knob to turn it off with one hand as the other activated the door locks.

She gripped the steering wheel, taking deep, unnecessary breaths as she tried to calm herself. Finally she let out a soft laugh and slumped back against her seat. She couldn't believe what an idiot she was being. Shaking her head, she reached down to put the car in gear. Just then, out of her peripheral vision, she saw something fall from above and hit the hood with a loud bang. She let out a shriek and pressed her hand to her chest, her eyes widening as she saw a dead bird sliding down off the hood, leaving a smear of blood on the metal.

"Fuck," she breathed. "Get a grip, Care. It's just a dead bird."

Her teeth started to ache as the smell of blood permeated the car. The 20-minute drive home was going to be _long_.

A few minutes later, her phone beeped and she pressed the button on the steering wheel to answer it.

"Hello?" she said as she glanced at the display on the dash. The caller ID was blocked, but that didn't mean anything. Only a few people would know that they could call her this early in the morning anyway.

The other end of the phone was silent and she frowned.

"Hello?" she said again, annoyance creeping into her voice.

When no one answered, she sighed and hung up, shaking off the feeling of foreboding that came over her. It was just a wrong number. Or, most probably, Damon. She glanced at the dash again, but she already knew the date. Stefan had died 20 years ago today. Damon would be a mess. She'd call him later in the day to see how he was doing, she resolved. Even if he was going to be a total ass about it, Caroline figured she owed him that much. He still blamed himself. And while she knew it was unfair of her and she at least theoretically believed he'd had a right to move on, she kind of blamed him, too.

A light rain started to fall, washing away the blood on the hood, much to her relief, as the smell had been driving her crazy. Entering the last stretch of her trip, she turned down a mostly deserted country road and sped up. She was _dying_ to get home. She was hungry and exhausted and she was going to need a lot of energy if she was going to be dealing with Damon later in the day. In some ways-_most_ ways-he was worse than her mother.

She yawned, closing her eyes for just a second, and almost missed it. When she opened them, she spied an only too familiar shape lying in the middle of the road. _Oh, shit_._ A body._ She slammed on the brakes and just stared at it for a moment.

"Jesus fucking Christ," she murmured with a humorless laugh. "You gotta be kidding me."

She sighed as she switched off the ignition and popped open the glove compartment, taking out her Glock and a stake she kept there. She checked the clip and then tucked the gun into the back of her jeans, slipping the stake up the arm of her jacket before letting herself out of the car. She moistened her lips as she looked up and down the deserted road. She seldom saw other cars on this part of her route this early in the morning, but she needed make sure no one else was around who could get hurt. Finally, resolutely pushing away the fear that prickled under her skin, she focused on the still form on the pavement and set her feet in motion, approaching the body cautiously.

"Hello?" she called. "Are you okay?"

The person remained motionless as she approached, keeping her arm hidden at her side as she let the stake slide into her hand. She knew this person could actually be a victim of a hit-and-run or something, but it wouldn't hurt to be cautious. This scenario was an old favorite of vampires, according to Damon.

She knelt down beside the figure, which she could now make out to be a man, despite the scarf covering his features.

"Hey," she said. "You need help."

Just then an arm shot out and grasped hers in an iron grip. She sprang into action, throwing herself onto the man, straddling him and holding him down by the throat. She jabbed the stake into his chest below his sternum, hard enough to hurt, but not to penetrate the skin-not yet, at any rate.

"Aw, sweetie," she cooed as the veins crinkled around her eyes and her fangs dropped. "You chose the wrong girl to snack on."

She let out a shriek as she found herself being flipped over and a long, hard body was pinning her to the ground, the Glock digging painfully into the base of her spine. She started to struggle but then froze when she found herself staring into a familiar pair of green eyes. She gasped, her eyes widening in shock.

"Stefan?"


End file.
